Tides
by Runi-chan
Summary: A companion piece to 'Waves'. Celebrian sits on the shores of Eldamar and longs for something she may never see again. One-shot, soley bookverse. Enjoy


_After reading through 'Waves' again...I decided to write a companion piece, written from Celebrian's perspective. Enjoy! I don't own a thing

* * *

_ The surging tide tugged at the shores of Eldamar, washing up odds and ends on occasion; a small bottle from Arda, driftwood. This time, it was a small, smooth flask.  
  
A pale elf's hand reached into the surf, rescuing the container from being drawn back out. The she-elf held the flask in one hand and seated herself at the water's edge.  
  
"It's been so many years, my love.." she whispered to the breeze, "do you remember me?"  
  
It had been so hard to leave then, but it wasn't a choice she'd willingly made. She had to leave; or she would have passed.  
  
That didn't make it easier. Nothing did. Celebrian closed her eyes and the image appeared once more; the broken look on his face, the twins, just toddlers, as they stood crying in the pale morning light. Her daughter was still so young; she was asleep in her crib, unaware of her mother's departure.  
  
Waves lapped against the shore, touching Celebrian's dress. She watched as the water slowly spread up the bottom, staining the material a bit darker. The she-elf turned her eyes to where Arda would be, if those Blessed Lands were still in the circles of the world.  
  
"You promised to return to me. How much longer must I wait for your word to be fufilled?" A tear slid from her eye and left a trail. Celebrian wiped the tear from her face, as she heard footsteps approaching.  
  
"Lady Celebrian?" the male elf questioned.  
  
"I am she...why do you disturb me?"  
  
"We have heard news..that of the Grey Ships."  
  
"Impossible," Celebrian stood up, "the last of our kin arrived here years ago. There are no more ships to take across this great sea " Anger crept into her voice; she would not allow herself to be brought up by hopes that were only to be dashed.  
  
"No, my lady. There was one left behind, for the few remaining elves on Arda. We presume it to be them approaching our shores."  
  
"You are one to play tricks, aren't you? I stood on those docks for months, waiting for someone. Do not tell me there is still hope that I may see him; it has passed out of reason."  
  
"My lady, it is no trickery. The ship is approaching our shores; the birds of the air tell us so. They have seen the last ship traveling. Just yesterday did they draw out of Arda and into this relm"  
  
Hope rose within Celebrian's heart.  
  
"I will trust your word, and wait on the docks to recieve the ship. A promise was made to me long ago; perhaps it will be fufilled."  
  
"I do indeed hope, my lady."  
  
"If I may ask one question of you, Ithileon?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Do the birds tell you who they see in the ships?"  
  
"They talk of Olorin, and the Lady of Lorien. Strange creatures are with them, but an he-elf also. The ship is captained by Cirdain the Shipwright. Other than that, I am not certain"  
  
Celebrian smiled softly and faced Ithileon.  
  
"Your answers are of much help. Many thanks."  
  
"To you as well, my lady"

* * *

The waves crashed so differently against the docks than the sand, Celebrian noticed. She had spent so many days now, since the elves were coming to Eldamar, looking out towards Arda, heart full to brimming with longing. Even though a week had passed since she had heard the news, the longing was not ebbing. In fact, she felt it grow heavier, become more of a burden.  
  
She supped quietly and quickly, never staying longer than she needed to in the homes provided. No one spoke to her of it; she had said when she arrived that a family was left behind. They knew she was hurting.  
  
A ship came into view on the horizon, nothing but a small speck. Days later, it drew near the shores of Eldamar, close enough to lift hope in Celebrian's heart.  
  
Weariness of the world, though, had noticably affected her. She became totally devoted to watching the horizon; she only ate if someone brought food to her, and not very much at that. It seemed to be that the mere thought of seeing her Elrond again was sustaining her.  
  
That final grey ship finally arrived, and Celebrian stood there, waiting. She was cloaked and hooded, waiting to embrace her spouse once more.  
  
A few younger elves grabbed the ropes Cirdain threw overboard and lashed them to the docks, securing the ship against them. A plank was brought down, and the Lady of Lorien first departed, followed by Olorin and two creatures that Celebrian had not seen before, but knew as hobbits. Last departed Elrond, an expression of relief on his face. Celebrian approached him, falling into his embrace.  
  
"Oh, how I have longed for this day!" she cried, and as she looked up, Elrond was weeping silently. 

Galadriel smiled and spread her arms.  
  
"My daughter. It has been long."  
  
"_Atara_!" Celebrian cried, embracing her mother like a child. Olorin chuckled softly and whispered something to the two hobbits.  
  
"Oh, I see," the older one laughed, " a very well deserved reunion! Don't you think so, Frodo?"  
  
The younger one nodded, and smiled wearily at Celebrian. In his eyes, she could see that he had borne a great burden, and that the scars earned by such a task would never fully heal.  
  
"_Elen síla lúmenn omentilmo_." he spoke.  
  
"My! What a jewel among hobbits"  
  
"That he is. Frodo is a very special hobbit, though he will tell you what credits him as such whe he feels ready to. It is time to sup, and rest," Elrond spoke, and turned to Celebrian.  
  
"I have long awaited this day," he smiled.  
  
Celebrian returned the gesture, then felt her head grow light. Her vision swam, and all went black.

* * *

The hall of the house quickly became a makeshift healing room. Those who were healers worked as best they could for hours. Frodo spoke to Elrond soon after.  
  
"Will she be alright?" the halfling asked. The elf-lord sighed heavily.  
  
"She had grown weary of this world; she is almost wasted away. I fear she may not last the night," Elrond swallowed the lump that caught in his throat.  
  
"Do not fear to hope," Frodo spoke, "for that was said of me, years ago when I was careless with my burden. She may yet make it"  
  
The wisdom of the half-ling's words, along with the suddeness of the advice threw off the half-elf for a moment. He let a small laugh escape his lips.  
  
"Yes, Gandalf once said that the ways of the world were indeed strange when the weak uphold the strong. I was hasty. May the Valar forgive it"

* * *

_There it is...no, I'm not saying whether she makes it or not; it's up to you to draw that conclusion.  
You know, I do enjoy doing these introspective pieces..but it's not wise to do many of them. Oh well; review!_


End file.
